Casey Jones vs Negan
by ColdCupoJoe
Summary: Hello once again! Here's another addition to my battle series, this time taking two sports equipment wielding legends in Casey Jones vs Negan! This takes Negan from his introduction in the Walking Dead in season 7 and takes Casey Jones as an amalgamation of his appearances, mainly based on his 2003 cartoon incarnation. Hopefully I got all characterizations right and y'all enjoy!


Casey Jones vs Negan

The smell of steaming pepperoni, mushrooms, and anchovies wafted from the pizza box as a man strode through the otherwise repulsive New York sewer system. The man didn't seem to mind his surroundings, peeling the box lid off and pulling free a large piece of pizza, the cheese stringing all the way up until the piece reached his mouth.

"They won't notice one little missing slice," the man said to himself, stuffing his face with the pizza. He was a tall man, muscles rippling out of his sleeveless red shirt that was just short enough to show off the bottom of his abs. On his back was a golf bag stuffed with sports equipment: a few baseball bats, an intimidating-looking hockey mask, golf clubs, a hockey stick, and more. His head was topped with long, greasy black hair, framing his strong cheekbones and large nose, his eyes a steely gray.

Casey Jones had made the trip through the sewer many times before, it was like a second home to him, and he always enjoyed meeting up with his mutant friends down here. His life had changed for the better since he met those weird turtles. Ninjas? It didn't matter to him, they were good people and they were friends, accepted Casey for who he was and what he did for a living. If grabbing some quality pizza every now and then came even part way to paying them back then it was the least he could do.

He reached the big blue door leading to the turtles' lair, knocking twice with his foot, his hands still being taken by the pizza.

No answer.

"C'mon ya mooks, Casey Jones is here and I brought the pizza party to you!" Casey shouted, tapping his foot impatiently. Typically Mikey would be at the door by the time he said the word pizza, but something wasn't right.

Casey put the pizza on top of a barrel close to the door, creaking it open slowly to peek inside. The Turtle Lair was quiet, abandoned almost, as Casey reached back outside to retrieve the pizza before making his way through the compound.

"Leo? Raph? Master Splinter?" Casey called out, all to no response. The quietness made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, the only noise coming from running water of the drain system all around the hideout.

Casey put the pizza down on a table where his friends usually hung out, a half-eaten pizza already sitting gathering flies. He examined the pizza, scratching his chin.

Below the sound of the running water, Casey heard wet footsteps behind him, bringing a smile to his face.

"You guys throwin' a surprise party or somethin'?" Casey chuckled before turning around. As he turned, however, the smile was quickly wiped from his face. Instead of one of the turtles he had come to befriend, there stood a ghastly remnant of his once friend.

The turtle still stood 5 feet tall, but his normally bright green skin held a sickly gray hue, his eyes behind his faded blue mask glazed over and white. He had sores up and down his body, from weapon strikes and bites in common, streamed coagulated blood over his turtle shell. His mouth was agape, green tinted flesh stuck between his teeth as he moaned, stumbling toward Casey.

"No no no… Leo?" Casey panicked, taking a step backwards and reaching for the hockey stick in his bag. Leo didn't show the slightest tinge of recognition as he continued to shamble forward, his footsteps echoing throughout the lair.

Casey pushed Leo back with his hockey stick, sending Leo back a couple steps, before he continued his determined trudge forward.

"I don't wanna do this," Casey said, his jaw tightening as he readjusted his grip on his hockey stick. A rage began boiling up inside of Casey, not at his friend but at whatever caused this, but he had to take out this rage nonetheless. "I'm sorry buddy… I'll fix this. I promise."

Leo stared blankly as he bore his teeth, walking arms outstretched to grab Casey. Casey put all of his strength into a swing with his stick, aiming for the head.

[1 year, 7 months later]

"You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry," a deep voice rang out in the darkness, heavy boots striking pavement. "Hell, you're all gonna be doing a lot of that."

Casey was a long way from home, walking the roads of Georgia through the night looking for anything to take his anger out on, bandits, criminals, zombies, whatever he found. The months had been hard on his sanity, not that it bothered him any, sometimes it helped to go a little nuts. Even so, days like these it was almost like he could hear the noises of his old life back to haunt him.

The sound of a baseball bat hitting a skull over, and over again. Pounding until it was simply wood splashing into blood, slamming into concrete on its way down.

Casey stopped in his tracks and turned his head. No, this wasn't an auditory hallucination, he could hear where this one was coming from. It was far, but distinct. He gazed at his surroundings, walking on autopilot for the past few hours had left him on a misty road in the middle of the woods, the sound of baseball bat impacts just beyond his line of sight.

He reached behind to his golf bag to pull his hockey mask, pulling it down over his face as its familiarity brought him a renewed sense of purpose. He retrieved a golf club as well as he trotted down the road toward the sound of the bat slamming into the wet concrete over and over again.

"Lucille is thirsty! She is a vampire bat!" a tall man shouted, slamming a baseball bat repeatedly into what used to be a man's skull, blood and tissue sprayed across the ground. Casey watched from the tree line, keeping stealthy was one of the many things he had picked up from his friends from before the end of days.

There were 30, maybe 40 men with guns, surrounding a handful of others on their knees, again surrounded by half a dozen cars. Two headless bodies lay on the ground, their skulls clearly bashed in by the tall man. He wore dark pants and a tight fitted leather jacket, a red scarf tucked into the jacket around the base of his neck. Though it was dark, the headlights of the surrounding vehicles illuminated his salt and pepper beard scruff and black slicked-back hair. His face was twisted into a devious smile, blood from those on the ground splattered across his face. His baseball bat dripped with blood, strips of flesh hanging from tightly wrapped barbed wire, glistening in the minimal light.

The man knelt before another greasy haired man, whispering in his face out of earshot. Casey gripped the golf club in his hands, his jaw clenching in rage as he saw the leader.

Casey checked his surroundings once more, making sure he was unseen, before standing up, taking a rock out of his bag and placing it on the ground. He took aim and gave a mighty swing with his golf club, smacking the rock and sending it rocketing into the air.

The rock collided with the man in the leather jacket, striking his forehead and sending him staggering backwards. All of his men propped their guns up, aiming outwards from the circle ready to fire as the man cursed, blood dripping from his wound.

"What in the goddamned shit?!" he shouted, examining the blood now on his palm. He pointed his baseball bat into the woods, his lips pursed in rage.

"That shit does NOT fly!" the man bellowed, grabbing the greasy haired man by the collar and slamming him belly-down onto the ground. "You come out here right goddamned now or I will crack Rick's skull like an omelet!"

"Do it and you'll be joining the others you killed," Casey shouted back, emerging from the woods. He dropped the golf club, letting it clang to the ground as he reached behind him, pulling out two of his baseball bats, one for each hand.

"You really don't know who you're dealing with, do you kid?" the man asked, tapping his bat on the pavement. "You think you can just walk in here like the grim fucking reaper, with your Halloween mask, thinking you can challenge the big man?"

"Not a challenge," Casey walked out, eyeing the guards. They parted, keeping their guns trained on the masked vigilante as he walked to the center of the circle. His eyes drifted to the prisoners on their knees, tears streaming down their faces, in shock of their situation. "Just an ass whoopin'."

"Listen to the big man!" the man chuckled, straightening his back in jest. "'Just an ass whoopin'! I've got the biggest balls around and I'm gonna slap Negan in the face with 'em!' Listen kid, I'm just gonna let you know right now that my dick is bigger, always has been and always will be."

Casey walked around the circle, keeping his eyes on Negan in the center. He twirled the baseball bats at his sides, getting a good feel for their weight before this confrontation. Negan stood unturning in the center, a perplexed look on his face.

"So, you really don't know these sad sacks of shit and you still wanted to pick a fight?" Negan asked, tapping his bat on the ground in beat with every other step Casey took. "You haven't earned my respect yet, kid. Now, wanting to challenge the king for his throne, I get that. I do. But Lucille here finds it to be a bit disrespectful. And she is still thirsty!"

"Goongala!" Casey shouted from behind, jumping at Negan with his bats raised. Negan turned quickly and sidestepped the downward swings as the bats struck pavement. Negan nonchalantly thrust the handle of his bat into the side of Casey's head, smacking into his temple. Casey stumbled, slightly dazed, but rage filled his eyes.

"C'mon son, excuse the shit out of my goddamned French but what pussy shit was that?" Negan taunted, the sound of the bat dragging on the asphalt the only sound in the night. "Give me that ass whoopin' you were talking about!"

Casey gritted his teeth, bringing his hands over his head as he chucked his two baseball bats. Negan cringed in pain as the bats both struck him in the back, he spun around in a rage. He readied his bat as Casey reached behind, pulling a cricket bat out of his bag.

"I can't let shit like that slide. There are rules," Negan snarled, charging at the masked vigilante. Negan's shoulder rammed into Casey's gut, sliding him back a few steps. Negan pulled back with his off-hand as he was grappled, pulling a knife from the back of his pants. He thrusted it forward, catching Casey in the leg. He howled in pain as he threw his elbow into Negan's chin, knocking him back. As Negan was on the back foot, Casey took a swing with his cricket bat, smashing into Negan's left hand causing the knife to clatter to the ground.

Casey ripped off the bottom strip of his shirt and tied it above his leg wound as a tourniquet. He got up and began pacing again, getting used to the burning pain and letting it fuel his rage.

"Taking it like a champ ladies and gentlemen!" Negan said, grinning ear to ear, eying the masked man. "I can tell behind the mask, you've got that same look as my big man Rick over there, like I shat in your scrambled eggs."

Casey looked at the man with the greasy hair that Negan was referring to, blood splattered across his face and a similar rage in his eyes. Casey looked back at the man in the leather jacket, readjusting his grip on his cricket bat. He limped forward once more, his bat ready to swing.

Negan swung Lucille at the same time Casey swung his, their bats colliding with a _crack_. Negan leaned in close, teeth bore in a wicked grin. Casey could smell his oddly fresh breath, enraging him more every second.

"I know where you're coming from kid," Negan whispered between labored grunts, fighting for superiority. "I've almost been where you're at right now, but let me tell you a little secret. You ain't walking away from this one."

"Welcome to Pain 101, your instructor is Casey Jones," Casey growled back, thrusting his head forward to headbutt Negan. His masked face collided with Negan, sending him stumbling back once more. Casey swung his cricket bat once more, aiming for the head like he was used to.

Negan, however, caught the incoming weapon, blood dripping from his now broken nose. Negan gritted his teeth as he reached up and planted his big black boot into Casey Jones' chest. Casey felt a rib or two snap at the impact as he tumbled backwards. Negan chased after him, pounding his bat after the rolling vigilante.

Casey saw the incoming bat as he forced himself to keep rolling, the bat slamming onto the asphalt. Negan stood straight as Casey got a little distance, cautiously rising to his feet.

"Have you shit your pants yet?" Negan taunted once more, brushing the blood away from his nose. "'Cause I think you've got to be getting pretty close! Lucille has that effect on people."

"Someone's gonna make you pay for what you did tonight, scum," Casey said through gritted teeth, reaching behind. He felt the golf bag, only one more weapon left. He took the golf bag off to free himself and pulled out a hockey stick, holding it halfway up the stick.

"Look out guys, we've got some kind of Canuck out here! A real Gretzky!" Negan shouted, a chuckle rumbling inside of him. Negan's men surrounding the two laughed as well, their laughs haunting the otherwise silent night. "And tonight was small beans, they brought this on themselves. I didn't want to bash their brains in, you've got to realize it was what had to be done to get these limp dicks in line."

"Bring it on you leather dork," Casey snarled, his eyesight sharpening through the mask. He lunged at Negan, his stick swinging high. Negan ducked the swing, bringing his barbed baseball bat into Casey's ribs. Casey spat blood through his mask, but brought the stick back around and slammed its flat side into Negan's face.

Negan spat blood, a tooth coming out with the blood. He furiously lunged at Casey, his fists wrapping around the vigilante's throat.

"Why'd you go and do that?!" Negan spat, foaming at the mouth. "Now I've got to kill you _and_ every one of these sorry shits. No one stands up to Negan!"

Casey choked as he tried punching Negan off of him, to no avail. He swung his stick but could get no leverage this close, as he slowly felt his vision darkening. His eyes darted from side to side, trying to find any way out that he could.

Casey's head turned to see the survivors still on their knees, faces wet with blood and tears, watching helplessly as Negan slowly choked the life from Casey's body. Casey's thoughts raced, he was sure this wasn't how it ended, not like this.

He put all of his force into his legs, kneeing upward and catching Negan in his rear. This jolt briefly loosened Negan's grip, allowing Casey to roll up with his elbow, clocking Negan in the jaw. Negan rolled off as Casey rose, hockey stick in hand and a snarl curled into his lips.

"Time to put you outta business, permanently," Casey sneered, raising his hockey stick high. Negan raised his hands but it was too late as the hooked weapon swung down and buried itself into Negan's face, splitting his skull from nose to forehead.

Casey took a brief second to catch his breath, looking around to Negan's men. They looked terrified, their leader just offed in front of their eyes.

"I'll take on any of ya!" Casey shouted, stepping on Negan's corpse to break his hockey stick free, shaking the blood off of its end. Negan's men slowly dropped their guns, backing away from the prisoners on the ground.

"We are Casey," the goons began chanting, taking a knee in servitude of this new figure.

"Nah nah," Casey held out his hands, a little freaked out. "I think you guys got the wrong idea here."

"We are Casey," the men continued. Their prisoners slowly rose to their feet, the man with greasy hair nodding to Casey in thanks. Casey returned the nod, retrieving his golf bag and limping away, all of his equipment returned. Casey paid no mind to the chanting, nor the periodic gunshots that silenced the chanting slowly but surely. He removed the hockey mask, returning it to his bag, as he continued to march into the rising sun.

Winner: Casey Jones

Stay tuned for a Far Cry/Call of Duty crossover battle in the future!


End file.
